


The Prince of Alderaan

by cummingforkylo (dunshiine)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Bodice-Ripper, Bridgerton AU, F/M, Gossip, Innocence, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Marriage, Oral Sex, Prince Kylo Ren, Regency, Romance, Rough Sex, Scandal, Smut, innocence kink, so much inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28572246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunshiine/pseuds/cummingforkylo
Summary: It’s the spring of 1813, you’re the daughter of Viscount Huntington and after your family went through a scandalous season last year your parents have decided it’s time for your debut in society as a marriageable young lady. You’ve had life long expectations about what this would mean, charming young men excited by the prospect of being your suitor, lavish dances, and falling in love. What your debut season turns out to be is far from your innocent imaginings, especially because the Prince of Alderaan is in London for the season and with him all kinds of dark intentions.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 63





	1. The Danbury Ball

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by the netflix show/book series Bridgerton. It’s kind of a crossover because I do use some themes and characters from the show but it is mostly a Kylo x Reader fic. I am still in the process of writing it but it is all planned out. I’m hoping to post weekly but I don’t have any set schedule as of right now. I promise you this is not going to be super historically accurate so don’t expect that lol. I’m just here for a good time. I really hope you like it!!  
> I will add to the tags as I post chapters so be sure to check them again.

_Dearest Lords and Ladies of London,_

_As the social season of 1813 fully blooms in the spring air, I pose one question, what scandal awaits our starved apetites? Last year we enjoyed the delicacy of the great Huntington family being almost brought to their knees by the Viscount Huntington’s love of gambling. This year we can feast upon his youngest child and only daughter being presented to society for the first time, perhaps earlier than she should have been to in an attempt to make up for their problems last year. We also will get to try a taste of exotic flavor as the Prince of Alderaan has returned to London for business reasons unknown(but will surely be found out by this writer). As those of us who keep up with world politics know, the Prince is the current ruler of the Kingdom of Alderaan as he and his militaristic political faction ousted his mother, the Queen Regent, from power only a few years after his father abdicated responsibilities and is in places unknown._

_Yesterday, the young ladies of high society who are debuting this season were presented to Queen Charlotte of England and of course, it was an event filled with who’s who, how did this girl prove herself silly or charming or cold and who managed to scrape by with Her Majesty’s much desired approval. Miss Daphne Bridgerton was chosen as the Queen’s diamond of the season, and was, to use the Queen’s word, “Flawless.” It will be interesting to see how many suitors Miss Daphne may be entertaining over the next few weeks. Miss Huntington,who’s family had very nearly been shunned by all of society last season proved to be quiet but charming and earned herself almost no regard from the Queen but did fair better than the young Miss Philippa Featherington who swooned almost the moment she was presented to the Queen._

_Yes, Lords and Ladies of London, we are in for quite the season, I am sure. I can assure you I will be with you every step of the way. None of you know me, nor will you ever(no matter how hard I am sure you will try) but I know you. I know your business and every dark little secret that you think is private and I will gladly be sharing it with the rest of the society. I’m sure we will all become very well acquainted over the next few weeks._

_Yours most sincerely,_

_Lady Whistledown_

****

Everything was silk and cotton, ruffles on skirts, rouge, curls and words of the latest scandal sheet that had been delivered to the door of 3201 Grosvenor Square earlier in the day. You were of course readying yourself for the Danbury Ball that evening, it would be your first ball after being presented to the Queen of England herself and to society as a whole so it must be perfect.

“What did it say of me again, Mama?” You asked as you stood facing the large mirror in your room while your maid, Ella, tied up your stays. She pulled them tight but not so tight you could not breathe, fainting at your first ball would hardly do, it would be unacceptable outcome to both you and your parents who hoped to find you an excellent match this season.

“Do not concern yourself with what some horrid writer thinks of you, dearest.” Mama said, looking up from the paper in question. You had read it through and found your name mentioned multiple times, none of which had been terribly favorable. Of course she referenced the scandal that had taken place in your family the year previously but that had been covered endlessly in older scandal sheets and no one found it of much interest anymore. Lady Whistledown was _new_ she had more interest in reporting the _new_ scandals….and yet, she _had_ mentioned it. So it would be fresh in any suitors mind, a thought that caused you discomfort. You would hate to fall madly in love with some beautiful lord only to have him find you detestable due to something that happened in your family over a year before. You had been looking forward to your season since you were a child, you imagined it always bathed in beautiful spring sunlight, you imagined yourself surrounded by affectionate suitors, flowers, music, charming conversation and always… _options._

Now that your season was here, you found it tainted by the mere memory of scandal but you were not going to let it stop you from finding love and enjoying the beauty of being out in the eyes of society. Marriage eligible. Despite what Lady Whistledown had written, you felt yourself ready for society, ready for all that it could bring you; and your Mama was right, you should not let the words of a gossip writer concern you. Ella had finished with your stays so now it was time for your petticoat and then your gown, fresh from the modiste. Once it was on, buttoned, straightened, and thoroughly fussed over Ella stepped back and you examined yourself in the mirror. The dress was fashionable in every aspect, powder blue, high waistline, short puffed sleeves, and square neckline that showed off more than you had ever been allowed to show before. You felt it swish around your slippered feet and you felt exactly how you had always dreamed of feeling just prior to your first ball.

“Mama?” You prompted, glancing over your shoulder to where your Mama was still poring over Lady Whistledown(even though she had told you not to concern yourself). Lady Huntington finally looked up and gasped. Standing up, she rushed to your side.

“You are a vision, dearest.” She said, smoothing a section of your hair. You smiled, allowing your eyes to linger on your own reflection again. Your heart sputtered with excitement, tonight could very well be the night that you would first lay your eyes upon the man you would wed.

“We truly do not need to worry about what the Horrible Whistledown woman writes, because you are such a gem that all the gentlemen at tonights ball shall be vying for your attention. “ Mama said. You looked to Ella,

“Do you agree, Ella?” You asked, reaching out for your maid’s hand, you had known her for years and she was your closest confidant, especially after all you had endured last season.

“Oh, My Lady, my opinion hardly-“

“I do very much value your opinion, Ella…and I’d believe you if you were to tell me I look like a fool. Please.” You said, squeezing her hand.

“You look lovely, my lady.” Ella said, you gave her a look that practically begged her to tell you the truth. “That is the truth, my lady. You’ll need your best gloves but you look just as your mother said, a vision.” She said. You smiled and looked back to the mirror, allowing yourself another moment to take yourself in. Perhaps it was a silly thing to do, perhaps you were being vain but you _had_ to be flawless to be viewed as eligible and that was what you intended on doing.

***

Kylo Ren had changed his name years before and _still_ sometimes invitations were addressed to his past name. Especially when he was here in London; he believed his mother had something to do with that and he despised it. Of course, no one would refer to him as _that_ name to his face, no one had the courage to do that; but he still found it irksome to look at the letter sitting on his desk that invited him to the Danbury Ball tonight addressing him as _Benjamin._ Even worse was the gossip rag that had been delivered to his address that morning not only mentioned him but even the author of that drivel had managed not to refer to him as his detested past name. And yet, high society here in London could not be bothered to at least address him as his title. It had his mother’s doing written all over it and it put him in a truly foul mood. There was a knock on his door and he looked up from his desk,

“Yes?” he called and the door opened, revealing the butler.

“A General Hux here for you, Your Grace.” He said in the snooty high society accent of a well trained London butler.

“Yes, let him in.” He said dismissively. He went back to the work in front of him while he waited for the wretched man to enter. He was in no mood for Hux, his chiding or his warnings about tonight’s events. Yet, he had to humor the man even while they were here in London. General Hux commanded Alderaan’s army and even though Kylo commanded the General, he needed to keep the abhorrent man at least semi happy.

“Ren,” Hux was already speaking as he walked into the room. Kylo stood, deciding to ignore the fact that Hux had not bowed or showed any amount of respect for his position as he entered the room. Kylo held his hand out for the General to take, Hux clasped it, and Kylo maybe squeezed his fingers harder than he had intended to.

“Hux,” He said in greeting. “How are you?” he asked in a tone that implied he didn’t care at all about the answer.

“Well. Enjoying London so far. Ah,” Hux had spotted Lady Whistledown’s sheet on the desk and walked over, picking it up. “You received this as well?” He asked around a smile.

“Of course, I believe it was delivered to all the households in high society.” Kylo said, he picked his tailcoat up from over the back of his chair and pulled it on. The ball was in a few hours and he needed to begin to get ready, to make himself presentable for society so he hoped he could rush Hux out by appearing busy.

“It mentions you.” Hux said, looking at the paper in one hand while the other arm was tucked behind his back in a way that was clearly commonplace for him due to his military background. A refreshed wave of irritation washed over Kylo as Hux told him something he already knew,

“Yes. I have read it.” Kylo said through a clenched jaw.

“You know this means all the young ladies and their Mama’s will be out for your favor.” He said. Kylo didn’t want to hear it, he knew it to be true but listening to it from a man he could barely stand was not something he wanted to tolerate.

“I know. It does not matter.” He said.

“You would be wise to marry.” There was the chiding Kylo had expected. “People will only take you seriously when you have an heir…and an heir,” He looked at Kylo meaningfully, “A _legitimate_ heir, requires a wife.” He finished in clipped tones. Kylo realized he had been clenching his fist, his brow furrowed, anger coursing through him. He slowly released the clenched hand.

“Do you forget who you are speaking to?” He asked, his voice going from the simple boredom of before to fury.

“No, Your Grace, I merely am trying to impress upon you the importance of something you seem to have entirely written off. Just because you want to behave like a petulant child and irritate your mother-“ Hux was cut of mid sentence due to Kylo crossing in front of his desk and grabbing the shorter man by the front of his tailcoat. Kylo dragged Hux towards him, their faces close, fury burnt through the Princes’s expression.

“You’ve forgotten your place, Hux.” He snarled and then because he did not wish to start a brawl with his army’s general in the study of his London home he shoved Hux away so hard the man stumbled. “I am aware of the situation and I do not need _your_ counsel. Now, I will see you at the events tonight. Remember who you speak to next time.” He warned. Hux hastily fixed his collar, adjusting it as he caught his breath, still looking shaken. It was not the first time the Prince had brutalized him in such a fashion and neither of them thought it would be the last.

“I shall see you tonight.” Hux said before turning to leave. He paused at the door,

“You would do well to reign in that temper, Your Grace, if you do wish to secure an heir and your position.” Hux warned and then he was out the door. Kylo stood there, shaking with rage, it bubbled inside him and in an explosion of movement he lashed out and sent a stack of books flying from their position on the desk. They crashed across his desk as they went flying, upending a inkwell, throwing papers into the air and making a giant clatter as they hit the floor. Kylo stood back, seething as the Butler hurriedly entered to clear it up.

***

The Danbury Ball was just as Kylo had suspected, stuffy, hot, and dull. It was filled with the smell of ladies perfume and powder from the wigs worn by the musicians. It was also filled with young ladies and their Mama’s flocking around him begging for his attention either for themselves or for their daughters. “Lady This from That estate in the country, Your Grace, I can play any Mozart you’d like on piano.”“Lady Whatever, Your Grace, please meet my daughter Miss Whatever. We have three homes in London alone thats not to mention our country estate. So you can assume her dowry is sizable.” “Your Grace, what an honor that you would attend-“ “Prince Ren, I’d like you to meet-“ It seemed to go on and on and there was no escape, unless he were to leave entirely and he knew that was unacceptable.

Kylo refused to be bested by the hordes of young women, all bright eyed, rose cheeked and dressed in the most fashionable of gowns. No, he would hold his ground, be polite but dismissive and leave it at that. How dull. Leaving it at that. Lots of the girls were attractive but most of them would prove to be proper young ladies who would never be caught dead alone with a man, let alone in any of the compromising situations he might find enjoyable. It was true that it would be easy enough to lure one of them out to the garden and from there some kind of seduction would be simple, a kiss on the neck, a hand on the waist and the girl would be so flustered and excited that she wouldn’t know how to say no. For a moment he found himself entertained at the idea but then he glanced around at the girls batting their eyelashes at him, smiling and trying to make themselves as demure and eligible as possible and he was bored once again. The idea of compromising one of their virtues had been exciting for a fleeting moment but the excitement had died the moment he truly considered acting on it.

Kylo excused himself in what was probably an extremely rude manner to the woman who had been trying to ask him if he hunted. He felt as if _he_ was being hunted himself as he walked away from her and the other ladies who were waiting for their opportunity to talk to him. He finally found himself a tiny pocket of peace, just off of the dance floor by a window that looked out onto Lady Danbury’s gardens. He stood for a moment, finally getting to enjoy a second of peace and quiet when a voice next to him spoke,

“I’m shocked to see you here.” Kylo stiffened, because he recognized the voice. It belonged to his mother and he hadn’t heard it in years. It made his chest tighten, if his hands had not been clasped behind his back they would have trembled. Before he looked at her he set his jaw and his eyes hardened,

“Queen Regent,” he said in greeting, tilting his head down slightly but barely meeting her eyes.

“Ben,” Leia started but Kylo sucked in his breath through his teeth so she had to pause, but she continued without correcting herself, “I am so glad you’re in London for the season…there is so much you can accomplish. Starting with healing your relationship with Queen Charlotte.” Of course, the instant she spoke to him again it was about all his failings, all the things he needed to fix.

“No, Your Grace. It is not my plan to heal anything with her, she is not the leader of England just as you are not the leader of Alderaan.” His tone was cross but quiet, he didn’t need anyone hearing the way in which they spoke to one another. Leia glared up at him for a moment, Kylo could feel his mother’s eyes burning into him as if the glare could actually turn to fire and scorch his clothing and then his skin. 

“At least tell me you’re coming to these events looking for a wife.” She said after a moment of silence between them. Kylo looked down at her and watched her turn around to face the ballroom, placing both of her hands properly on top of her beautiful gilded cane. When he didn’t answer she took his arm, pulling him slightly to look at something. He tugged his arm out of her grip but looked where she was looking, “Daphne Bridgerton was named the diamond of the season. She was chosen by the Queen.” She said to him. Kylo’s eyes caught on Daphne, a pretty young debutant but thoroughly uninteresting to him. “ _She_ would make quite the wife, and being married to a _Prince_ is a big step up for her. I’m quite sure she would be interested.” She was speaking hurriedly as if she knew he was about to walk away from her and to be fair, that was exactly what he wanted to do.

“I am not getting married, mother.” He growled, his voice still low. “Especially not to some girl who’s in the pocket of an English Queen.” He snarled before turning from his mother and stalking off.

*

Walking into the ballroom of your first ball was somehow better than all of your fantasies, all your dreams seemed to have lead to this moment and as you stepped in from the entry hall you lost your breath. It was a swirl of white gloves, beautiful light dresses, curls immaculately done up, men’s tailcoats jostling as they danced, and golden candlelight danced over the whole thing. You felt as though you had inhaled bubbles from the sips of champagne you had on holidays.

The ballroom at the Danbury’s estate was a large, high ceilinged room with many beautiful crystal chandeliers hanging down providing glowing golden candle light. On the mantles of the multiple fireplaces were spring green garlands, white roses tucked amongst the greenery. It had all the charms and refinement you expected from your first ball. The center of the room was the dance floor and just off to the side, below a grand staircase the musicians played beautiful, joyful music.Many people danced and still more mingled around the edges of the dance, sipping drinks, talkingand trying to impress.

Your mama walked in behind you and it was her hand on your back that stopped you from staring all around with wide eyed wonder. You had been to balls before, but it had been as a child, not as a lady eligible for marriage and this was so vastly different.

“Close your mouth, dearest.” Mama said “Lest you catch a fly.” You snapped your mouth shut. Mama lead you to a table that had little cards connected to dainty pieces of ribbon on them. Dance cards. You found your name and Mama helped you tie it around your wrist and it finally felt real. You were here. You were finally going to be able to be a real lady, you could meet the love of your life this very night. Perhaps he would sweep you off of your feet and you would be wed by the end of the season. Did anyone get proposals after one night? You were sure that you had heard of a woman who had managed to get a proposal after only a few hours but you had to remind yourself of how rare that was. There were plenty of young ladies here tonight that had been searching for multiple seasons for a husband and had yet to find one. A lot of those girls didn’t even have a scandal in their family’s history and you did, you had to remind yourself of this so you remained beyond reproach. You had to be perfect. You straightened one of your gloves at your elbow and began to make the rounds.

It came naturally to you because it had come naturally to your mama and she had taught you very well. You greeted everyone by name and title, smiling but not too wide, never looking upset or dowdy. You spoke with Lord Humphies about hunting and Mr. Banbrook about music. You were even able to answer Monsieur De la Rue in acceptable French. Mr. Banbrook was the first to ask you to dance and so he took your hand and lead you out onto the dance floor. His arm wrapped around your back and he began to lead you through a fairly quick waltz. You began the dance dizzy with excitement, Mr. Banbrook was quite handsome, he didn’t have a title but he had money and he smiled while he talked and that charmed you. Something happened as you danced though, you realized your head wasn’t swimming with happiness, your heart wasn’t pounding hard and fast in your ears, there was no excited butterflies dancing in your stomach. You didn’t feel as if you had inhaled champagne bubbles. No. This was no different than dancing with one of your older brothers. Even the steps felt too familiar.

The conversation was lifeless as well, he talked endlessly about all the things he had,and all the things he used to decorate his house with. You had long since left the topic of music behind and you found yourself staring off just over his shoulder, a pleasant smile plastered onto your face.

“I have quite a few stuffed deer heads on the walls of my study out in my country estate.” Mr. Banbrook said, you had to blink a few times to bring yourself back to reality. “They’re really quite beautiful.” He added when you didn’t answer right away.

“Oh, yes. I’m sure they’re lovely.” You said politely.

“Here in London I tend to fashion my home with art more than my hunting trophies-“ he continued and your mind wandered again, it was a thrilling moment when he spun you away from him for a moment and you joined with another gentleman before being spun back to your original partner. How could this be? Mr. Banbrook was perfectly suitable, maybe nothing special but, shouldn’t your first dance at your first ball bring some excitement?

After the disappointing dance with Mr. Banbrook he signed your dance card and promised to come back for another dance later in the evening and you were relieved when he left you. _It’s just this first one that was bad, there are plenty of other gentlemen here._ You told yourself this over and over again. _The first man was not bound to be the man you married._ There was a part of you that _had_ hoped that the first dance with a man would be something magical, something that would have sent your heart into spasms of excitement, would have put stars in your eyes,and butterflies in your stomach.

The next man to ask you to dance was Lord Kensington, he was handsome if a bit more bumbling than Mr. Banbrook. He stumbled over his words when asking you to dance but you reserved your judgment until you had danced. Lord Kensington had a title of his own and seemed completely taken with you. He kept his hand tight on your back as you danced. When the music picked up, you hoped and _hoped. Please, let this give me every feeling I’ve ever wished for._ But when he stepped on your toes and you had to tell him with a polite giggle that it was quite alright, you knew there was no chance. In what world would the man you were going to fall in love with step on your toes, smell of fish and stare at your chest while he tried to keep up with the steps to the dance. You hoped that the disappointment did not show on your face.

By the end of the dance it was hard to pretend you were enjoying yourself, but you attempted. He signed his name to your dance card and you thanked him. _Soon. Soon. Someone will and it will be just as lovely as you’ve always imagine. Even if he isn’t the one you marry. It will feel like butterflies and champagne bubbles._ You tried to tell yourself this after each man you had a dance with disappointed you. None of them were interesting, exciting, or like the spellbinding man you had always dreamt of.

No, you continued to have your feet trodden on, your back squeezed too tightly, be nearly put to sleep by the conversation and generally underwhelmed. Even the men who were perfectly lovely seeming sparked no interest in you. You tried very hard with them, listening to every word, dancing as prettily as you could, you tried to create the feeling you had dreamt of. The feeling you had when you first entered the ballroom, the rushing excitement, the pulsing happiness, the feeling of possibility. It never happened. The moment when you thought you might feel it, it just fizzled away.

You finished a dance with Lord Fernside and retreated to your Mama, she had been talking with Lady Featherington and the Viscountess Bridgerton when you came over. She detangled herself from the women and turned to you,

“None of those men were your fancy?” she asked, you wondered if she could so easily read it on your face.

“No, Mama…how did you-“ You asked.

“People have been talking,” Never a good thing. “It seems lots of people have been saying you seem…cold. Uninterested.” She said. You felt hot with anger suddenly. You had done nothing wrong, in fact you had played the part of interested and excited as well as you could under the circumstances.

“Uninterested?” You gasped.

“We will discuss it later, for now try and look happier, dearest.” She insisted. You took a deep breath and looked around the ballroom, hoping to calm yourself. You found your eyes drawn across the dance floor to the other side where a man stood almost a foot above the people around him. Besides being shockingly tall, he was broad with waves of dark hair, and a striking features. The oddest thing about him was that he was looking straight backat you. It was as if your eyes had been drawn towards him because you could _feel_ the intensity of his gaze. Your heartbeat quickened, you could feel it in your throat, your hands even seemed to tingle. You knew you shouldn’t stare at him and yet neither of you averted your gaze.

*

“Hux,” Kylo said in greeting as Hux appeared at his side. He did not take his eyes off of the girl across the dance floor from him. She was the first girl at this nightmare of a ball who he did not find completely banal. Maybe it had been the way she had looked around the ballroom with such misery that it nearly rivaled his own. Or maybe it was just because he found her attractive.

“Your Grace,” Hux said, looking up at him and then following his gaze across the ballroom. “Has someone actually caught your eye?” he wondered. Kylo quickly averted his eyes, not wanting to admit anything to Hux, his lip twitched towards a snarl but he reworked his face into disinterest once again.

“She’s attractive is all. Who is she?” He asked.

“Miss Huntington, daughter of Lord and Lady Huntington.” Hux said. “From what I’ve gathered this is her debut season but her prospects do not look good considering the scandal her family suffered last year.” Hux said.

“Scandal?” Kylo asked, the memory of a page in Lady Whistledown’s paper that morning floated back to him. Huntington. Gambling.

“Her father has a gambling problem and lost the family quite a lot of money, they were in some amount of debt. It seems they managed to dig their way out of debt and have returned to proper society.” Hux informed him, leaning in towards him to speak, Kylo wished it was proper to push him away. “I think it was mentioned in Whistledown this morning-“

“I do not care what is written in that fucking paper.” Kylo snapped. Hux was quiet for a moment and then,

“She is far below your station, Your Grace.” Hux said as he watched Kylo’s eyes drift back towards the girl across the ballroom. “And with that kind of scandal, who knows if she even has a dowry anymore.”

It was true. She was far below his station. Far from the Queen’s diamond of the season. Far from the choice his mother would have made for him. He could imagine the irritation he would cause his mother if he was seen with the girl. Choosing to dance with _her_ out of all of the many, more appropriate ladies to choose from.

“Well, thank you for your input, General.” Kylo nodded to Hux and started to cross the ballroom towards the girl.

*

You had to hurriedly force yourself to look away as he looked back towards you, you had already been staring for too long. He was going to think you improper. Maybe you were improper, because you had never even spoken with the man and he was making your heart pound, making you lose your breath.

“Dearest,” Mama said, taking your arm. “The Prince is coming this direction.” She said. _Prince?!_ He was a prince. You had locked eyes with a _Prince_ and hadn’t even realized it.

“Prince?” You asked, shocked. Before your mama could answer you he was standing in front of you. All eyes were upon the two of you. Everyone who had been standing nearby couldn’t help but notice when a prince stepped directly in front of a young lady. You had to remind yourself that were, in fact, the lady he had stepped directly in front of. You looked up to him, struck again by how how tall he was. Your eyes metand you were again struck by how handsome he was. Struck by how intense his gaze was. Struck by how hard your heart pounded. How it migrated up from your chest and into your throat. You remembered yourself in a hurried movement and curtsied, “Your Grace.” You said, trying to remember everything you knew about Princes. This must have been the Prince of Alderaan. You racked your brain for his name. Benjamin Solo.No. Kylo Ren. He had changed it from his family name. Prince Kylo reached out for your hand, you held it out to him and he took it, gracefully bowing his head and kissed the back of it.

“Miss Huntington,” he said, he was unsmiling and yet you didn’t find yourself missing it. His face didn’t need a smile to be beautiful. “Would you care to dance with me?” he asked.

“Of course, Your Grace.” You said. Without another word he offered you his arm and you took it with a shaking hand. He lead you on to the dance floor and pulled you in towards him. The music was beautiful, another fun waltz but this already seemed entirely different from your first dance of the night. Your mind whirred, trying to come up with all that you knew of Prince Kylo. His reputation was not a good one, cruel, quick tempered, cold and unsettled were just a few of the things you knew of his reputation; but a reputation was not necessarily reality.

In the first moments of the dance, everything seemed to blur around you. It was like you could not focus on the outside world and the only focus was on him. Everything you wanted to happen in all your other dances with other men tonight was happening now. Your heart raced, your smile was genuine and butterflies danced in your stomach.

“Are you enjoying London, Your Grace?” You asked.

“Not at all.” He said, glancing away from you. Your brow furrowed, but you recovered quickly,

“I’m sure all of these balls and the season’s events must feel silly to you.” You offered with a smile. Prince Kylo’s eyes met yours and you felt your mouth go dry.

“Yes, they do. Especially silly when I have every stupid girl at this ball vying for my attention when I try to make it very clear I do not care to give any of them an ounce of my attention.” He said. At first you were shocked at the way he talked about other ladies, calling them stupid as if it wasn’t an insult. As if it was just a fact. Then, you realized he _was_ giving you attention. He must have thought there was something special with you, something different, something worth giving attention to. Your heart leapt at this thought and you looked up at him, eyes meeting his.

“It must be exhausting being so desirable.” You teased lightly, you wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t made it seem obvious that he felt you were _worth_ giving attention to. You smiled at him in a way you hoped was flirtatious. As you smiled you watched his expression change from interest to something that might have been akin to disgust.

“You’re not so different from any of these other girls, are you Miss Huntington?” he asked. It took a moment for your excitement and interest to turn toconfusion and embarrassment and then finally indignation. Had he just implied that you were stupid?

“Excuse me?” You asked, unable to restrain the anger you felt.

“You _were_ staring at me from across the ballroom, were you not?” He asked, his voice wasn’t so much teasing as it was mocking. Heat flooded your cheeks, embarrassed, you hurriedly looked away from him. Your jaw set and your heart pounding but not from excitement anymore, but instead from anger.

“I only looked at you because I felt you staring at me.” You said, your voice dropping lower.

“You _felt_ me staring at you?” He asked, now sounding amused. The hand he had on your back moved upwards, towards the exposed skin of your upper back. You felt one of his gloved fingers brush against your skin,shivers seemed to erupt through your body even though you were flushed from anger and the exertion of dancing.

“Yes. You looked at me with such…such… _intensity_ that I felt it.” You insisted. He scoffed, his lip twitching up towards something like a smile. It irritated you and to your even _worse_ irritation it interested you.

“I believe you are mistaken. I caught you staring at me long after I looked away from you, Miss Huntington.” He said seriously, his dark eyes seemed to burn. His hand against your back squeezed, the finger that lay across the skin on your back dug in slightly. You felt dizzy, your breath left you in a sharp exhale. You wished that this waltz was one where you switched partners, even for a brief moment, so you wouldn’t have to look at his burning eyes and the way his lips seemed to twitch as he thought or listen to the way his voice was so deep it reverberated through his chest. You had finally gotten what you had wanted from the night, the excitement from a dance, the rushing happiness, the kind that bubbled through your veins like champagne, the excitement that made you tingle. You got all the feelings you wanted but they conjoined and mixed with fury and embarrassment. Kylo leaned in towards you, he was so close you could feel his breath,he was too close, you could _hear_ his smirk as he spoke,“You _stared_ at me, my lady. How improper.”


	2. Hyde Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Whistledown’s latest papers leaves you quite indignant and unsure of your next steps. Hyde Park is beautiful at this time of year but when you venture out with your Mama, you have anything but flowers in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm pretty pleasantly surprised with this chapter, I thought it would be kind of a let down after the first chapter but this one turned out pretty good! I hope you enjoy it!

_Dearest Lords and Ladies of London,_

_After the first event of the season last night I’m sure we are all wondering what scandal or excitement awaits our hungry appetite! This writer has heard from her sources that while the ball seemed to be laden with the typical talk(Miss Philippa Featherington danced with no one, Lady Browning indulged far too much in champagne and had to be removed from the party by her son, Lord Linfield was rejected by countless ladies for a dance…despite his sizable fortune-perhaps it is the lingering oder of cabbages and onions that accompanies him wherever he goes) there was one bit of excitement that stood far above the other more typical anecdotes. The most scandalous young lady of this season so far, Miss Huntington, seems to have caught the eye of the most coveted (and reluctant) bachelor of the season, the Prince of Alderaan._

_Prince Kylo Ren of Alderaan spent much of the evening avoiding the dance floor and was seen to scurry away from many very suitable young ladies including Miss Bridgerton-Queen Charlotte’s choice of the season. While he resisted strongly(and some might even have called his actions rude) most of the young ladies he encountered he seemed to be unable to keep himself away from Miss Huntington. Miss Huntington, still fresh off of her family’s embarrassing gambling scandal last year did not do herself any favors at the Danbury Ball. She danced with a number of men who would have been perfectly adequate for her, but she seemed to have had nothing but contempt for them. Showing no more interest in them then a horse shows a fly and this mare perhaps should not be brushing flies away too quickly, no matter how much their buzz annoys her._

_But perhaps the Prince sees something in Miss Huntington that society as a whole does not, because after ignoring the Queen’s choice of the season all night, the Prince and Miss Huntington came together for, by all accounts, a most_ heated _dance.I will be interested to see if Miss Huntington has a royal caller today and what that could mean for her prospects later on. Perhaps the Queen has chosen the wrong girl for the diamond of the season this year, perhaps we have_ all _put our eggs in the wrong basket. But—perhaps not. Only time(and this writer) will reveal._

_Yours most sincerely,_

_Lady Whistledown_

“Contempt?” You gasped as you paced back and forth in front of the piano in your sitting room. Mama was sitting in front of a table holding the latest Lady Whistledown, a quickly cooling cup of tea completely forgotten sat on the table in front of her. “I didn’t show _any_ of those men contempt! I was perfectly polite, Mama!” You complained. You were affronted to hear what that wretched Whistledown had written of you, written of you and the Prince.

“I understand that, but the members of the ton might not now that they’ve read this.” Mama sighed. Nerves clenched at your stomach, how could your status seemed to have gotten _lower_ since the Danbury Ball? “Not all of what she wrote of you was terrible, dearest.” Mama said, trying to perk up. She set the paper down next to her tea on the table. “Don’t you agree, Ella?” she continued, looking to your lady’s maid who stood nearby.

“Oh, yes, not all of it was-“

“She compared me to a horse.” You said, turning around to face the two of them, frustration and irritation plain on your face. Ella’s face dropped and she nodded, looking away. “Sorry, Ella. I do not mean to take my own frustrations out on you.” You said.

“She did mention the Prince being taken with you-“

“Yes, what was the word she used to describe our dance?” You asked, “Oh yes, _heated_. That’s a scandalous word if ever I’ve heard one.” You said. You strode over to the table and picked up the copy of Lady Whistledown Society Papers that now sat on the table beside your Mama. You found yourself wanting to rip it into a million pieces, that of course would not be a proper display, even just in front of your mother and lady’s maid.

Your Mama reached out and took your hand, running her thumb along the backside ofit in a comforting way that only a Mama knew how to do. You looked down at her and found yourself for what felt like the millionth time, wishing things were different. Wishing things had not exploded for your family last year. How much easier would life currently be if your father had not indebted himself to so many people, not made a mockery of your lives? You tried to brush away the thought but anger pulsed through you. A most unlady-like feeling, anger. It caused you to think of actions you wanted to take but never could, words you wanted to speak but never would allow yourself to. It made you long even more for a different world wherein you could do and say those things. And longing wasn’t ladylike either.

“Dearest, she also compared you to Daphne Bridgerton and said the Queen herself may have been wrong in her choice. That the whole ton might have been wrong in thinking the diamond of the season was Miss Bridgerton, and she means that it could be _you.”_ As your Mama spoke a whole knew vista of opportunities, and chances seemed to open up before you. You could, no, you _had_ to prove this true. That you were more eligible, more likable and just…more than anyone else. The Prince could call on you and he could court you, and ask for your hand and marry you. Then all this worry, all this anger and pain and scandal would be for naught. It would be forgotten about because you will have made the match of the season. Even if he was rude, cruel and you became irritated at the mere memory of his mocking voice, you would still become a _Princess_ when you married him and that was exactly what your family needed. Yes, that was the goal and you were heartened by it.

“My guess is you will have quite a lot of callers today, suitors ready to vy for your hand.” Mama said and you smiled because you really did agree with her.

*

Your mood dissolved as the day went on, you spent the entire day in the sitting room awaiting on callers. You paced, and no one called. You sat on the sofa and tried to read, and no one called. Youplayed piano and no flowers or gifts arrived. You talked to Ella about other things to try and distract yourself and no one called. You picked out fabric for your next dress from the swatches the Modiste had sent and no one called. Not one suitor. You had been soconvinced that the Prince would call, or at _least_ send flowers that in the afternoon when there was a knock at the sitting room door you were _sure_ it was the Butler there to tell you that he was there but instead the door opened and your eldest brother walked in with his wife and your niece and nephew close behind. Matthew was jovial as he greeted you and your Mama,

“Did you read Lady Whistledown today? That woman has a knack for writing compelling stories does she not?” He asked as he grabbed a biscuit and sank down at the table. His wife, Rose sat down next to you at the piano as the children ran about already causing havoc. You rolled your eyes, had they not read the same thing this morning? Why would he think it _compelling_?

“She compared me to a _horse,_ Matthew.” You found yourself saying once again, turning to look at your elder brother who attempted and failed to hide a smile.

“I _told_ him not to bring up Lady Whistledown.” Rose sighed, reaching over to take your hand in the sweet and gentle way that she did.

“Ella, can you call down to the kitchens for more tea, please?” Mama said, looking to Ella who said,

“Of course, Ma’am.” She curtsied and left them. Matthew watched her go from the room, and leaned back against his chair.

“She may have made a few brash statements, my dear sister but she also reminded everyone that their choice of Daphne Bridgerton for the diamond of the season could be false and it _could_ be you.” Matthew said, delicately selecting another biscuit from the tray in front of him.

“That is precisely what I pointed out out to your sister earlier.” Your mama said approvingly glancing from Matthew to you over her teacup.

“That was before absolutely no suitors came to call this morning,” You reminded your mother, irritation coloring your voice once again.

Your nephew sped past the table his father was at, grabbing a biscuit as he went.

“Simon, where on earth are your manners?” Rose asked. Simon stuck his tongue out at his mother and continued his game of chasing his sister around the couch with the biscuit in his mouth.

“You had no suitors this morning? None at all?” Matthew asked, and the shock in his voice made you want to shrivel up and die. It was unfair, unfair that Matthew was there to bare witness toyour suffering, unfair that he should be here with his happy wife and children watching you fail at your only duty in life. Your mama shook her head to answer for you because you were looking anywhere but at your elder brother. Rose squeezed your hand and your chest flooded with sudden emotion. The tiniest gesture made you feel as though you were not alone. Had she once felt like this? Had she too wondered if anyone would want her? Had she wondered if she would amount to anything more than the hated title of ‘spinster’? No, Matthew had been there from the start, he had been interested and active in seeking her out.

Matthew wasfrowning as if in thought, “Does father know?” he asked, trying now to hide some of his shock by asking pointless questions. Of course Father didn’t know, Father wasn’t home, how would he know? Mama answered in a more polite fashion than you would have,

“Not yet,” She said.

“Hm. Well. There is still time.” He said shot you a quick smile, perhaps you weren’t entirely useless. Your mood did not improve, even when you retreated to your room to get dressed for walking in Hyde park. You _knew_ you could not get discouraged. You _knew_ you had to prove yourself as the best. Lady Whistledown might have helped along the No Suitors Situation but she herself had also said you could be the rightful Diamond of the Season and not Daphne Bridgerton. Everyone had already said this to you today and now you had to remind yourself. You had to convince yourself because it would take that confidence to pull it off. As Ella helped you dress you found your mind floating back to the night before, at the Danbury Ball and how flat every dance had felt, every look between you and a man had had no significance, every touch was dull and expected. It had all been nothing. All except one—the Prince. The rude, cruel, infuriating Prince Ren who had called you improper, even though _he_ had been the one staring at _you_. Kylo Ren, who had…touched your skin. Your heart pounded at the mere memory of his fingers grazing against your back. It made you ashamed but not nearly as much as it should have, because it also was the only memory from the Danbury Ball that exhilarated you. He had sought you out, and you alone, it had to have meant _something_. And yet when he danced with you it seemed as though all he wanted from it was to humiliate you. You wished it wasn’t possible. You wished it hadn’t worked. And you very much wished you still weren’t thinking about it.

***

Your thoughts of Prince Kylo Ren didn’t abate when you left your house for the short carriage ride to Hyde Park. You were still thinking about him as you strolled along the walking paths with your Mama and your Lady’s maids. You were trying to work out what exactly he had meant by his behavior, why choose you to be the only young lady he danced with and then be nothing but rude to you? Perhaps he did not think himself rude? Perhaps he just spoke his mind very bluntly. You considered this as the best option for a while, barely noticing where your feet were carrying you as you walked alongside your Mama. But a memory resurfaced from that night, that made it very clear to you that this could not be the case. It was the memory of the smirk that seemed to hang even in his voice as he said, _“You stared at me, my lady.”_ Your insides twisted at it. That and the way his eyes burned. He knew precisely what he was doing, he knew he was trying to humiliate you, trying to make you feel as if you had done something wrong. _“How improper,”_ those words sent a spark through your body, something akin to anger and embarrassment. His voice had been dark and intense, your mind was absorbed in it…accompanied with the feeling of his gloved fingers against the bare skin of your back. It wasn’t the correct place for him to place his hand while leading a dance, it was slightly too high. Yet, he had done it. Accidentally? It must have been. He just had not been used to dancing with someone quite that much shorter than him, perhaps. Those fingers blazed through your memory, leaving little room for anything else in your brain. You could imagine his fingers there again as you looked out across the Serpentine River, which was little more than a shallow man-made pond that cut through this section of Hyde Park.

Your mind was so wrapped up in the feeling of those fingers, and the burn in his eyes that it took you far too long to notice you were staring directly at the real thing. It took your mother taking your arm and hissing in your ear,

“Staring at the Prince is _not_ very lady-like.” She squeezed your arm and you blinked. She, of course, was right. Across the lake, the prince was standing arm in arm with the Queen Regent of Alderaan, his mother. Someone he had not been seen with years. As you took him in you realized he had not noticed you yet,you should look away, being caught staring at him yet again would surely end in more humiliation. He paused in his walk with his mother, his expression was irritated, lips tight, body stiff and upright as she spoke to him. His eyes flicked up and you were very suddenly caught in his gaze. Caught wasn’t quite the right word to describe it, trapped was probably more accurate. A shiver ran up your spine, it was that same blazing glance, a whisper of the memory of a hand on your skin. You watched as humor suddenly joined the irritation on his face, recoloring it. He turned to look at his mother, spoke and then pulled his arm away from her. He began to walk to the foot bridge nearby. She called something after him but he ignored her, she turned to her Lady’s maid who was standing nearby but your eyes were following his Grace as he walked over the bridge.

“The Prince is headed in this direction,” Mama hissed to you quite unnecessarily. You were about to hiss back that you knew but you started to feel not only his eyes on you, but _many_ eyes on you. Everyone who had gone for a late afternoon stroll through Hyde Park seemed to be looking at you.All because Prince Kylo was stepping off the foot bridge and striding over towards you. You found yourself having the insane desire to run away. Perhaps it was because you couldn’t face him after he had caught you staring, or perhaps it was because of your disastrous dance at the Danbury Ball…or perhaps it was because of the persistent and scorching thoughts of his hand in yours, his fingers on your back. You wanted to hide from all of that and hide from his gaze but he walked up to you a moment later and inclined his head respectfully,

“Miss Huntington,” He said and then he turned slightly towards your Mama. “Lady Huntington,” He said.

“Your Grace,” Your Mama said, dropping to a curtsey. When you finally remembered how to move, and curtsied as well.

“Your Grace,” You mimicked your mother.

“What a pleasant thing, to meet you here.” Mama said, smiling almost adoringly up at Kylo. “Were you escorting your mother?” She asked. Something shifted slightly in his face, the subtle shift was enough to make his face go from mildly polite to the beginnings of irritation.

“Yes.” He said. “But I happened to see Miss Huntington across the Serpentine and thought she looked as though she could use a companion this afternoon.” He said. He offered his arm to you. You didn’t move. You were unsure if you should take it, unsure if you even wanted to take it. You knew you should and something inside of you did _long_ for it, longed for his gloved hand in yours so that you could again revel in the memory of it against your bare back. Shock swept through youat your own thoughts, and with that shock was the realization that the prince had his arm held out to you still, “Would you care to walk with me, Miss Huntington?” He asked. You took the proffered arm as gracefully as you could manage while you still recovered from your own thoughts and the longing that still drove you to consider his hand at such length.

“Yes, of course, Your Grace.” You said. You watched him give your mother a tight smile and nod, before he turned you away form her and began walking.

It was quiet except for the sound of your steps as you walked along the Serpentine, you listened to his heavy footfalls and your lighter ones keeping pace. Was he going to mention the rude things he had said when you had last spoke? Should you bring them up? You were about to ask him if he planned on insulting you again on your walk when he spoke,

“I thought you might have learned your lesson about staring the last time we met.” He spoke casually as though he wasn’t attempting to wound your pride. “That does not seem to be the case.” He said. You looked about, wondering if anyone was within earshot, but no, Mama and her Lady’s maid were the closest people to the both of you and she was at least twenty yards back.

“First of all, Your Grace, I did not realize I was looking _at_ you this afternoon.” You said, turning to look up at him. He was so much bigger than you that it felt as though you had to lean back to see his face. “Secondly, I maintain that the last time we met, I was only looking at you because I had caught you looking at me.” You insisted, and again the memory of that evening filtered into your head. The way you had felt his eyes upon you and how you looked back with curiosity.

“Hm.” Was his answer, and for a long moment it seemed as though he was going to leave it at that, then he spoke with no humor in his voice, “You presume to know better than I?” He asked. Your body felt tight and if you had not been holding on to his arm, your hands would have been shaking. Was it just because he was a prince that he was this intimidating or was it more? No, it had to be more, there was something about him that screamed at you to be nervous, to be afraid. You had to take a deep breath before you spoke to him again,

“I presume to know when I am being looked at across a ballroom, Your Grace.” You said, turning your face away from him so you looked forward at the path in front of you instead.

“Do you know so acutely what that feels like?” He asked, you felt his eyes on you again, that intense gaze that had burned into your across the ballroom at the Danbury estate. He was mocking you again, because he knew you did not know what it felt like.You swallowed and your eyes flicked up to him and then away again as you tried to recover.

“Perhaps not, but I knew I could sense your gaze.” You insisted.

“Perhaps I could sense yours.” He said.

“That’s impossible because I was not looking at you yet.” Your voice was colored with anger now and you wished you could take back the words, your frustration only seemed to spur him on.

“I think you might have been.”

“I was not.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” You almost ripped your arm away from him but you knew deep down that you could not. Not only was it impossible because you knew it would cause a scandalous scene but you could not because your body would not allow you to pull away from him. It felt like you were glued to his side.

“You seem unreliable to me,” His voice was humorless, irritated at your refusal to accept his version of events. You walked in silence next to him, not wanting to give him more fuel to flame his suspicions that you were an unreliable source, or a hot tempered girl. “Did you have many callers this morning?” You were so surprised by the question that you stopped walking, or you tried to because with your arm in his he simply towed you along with him.

“Excuse me?” You asked, breathless. It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable question for a friend to ask but you would not consider him a friend or even a potential suitor at this point. He had made it quite clear that he thought of you as nothing but an improper, unreliable, little girl.

“Lady Whistledown wrote that you might surprise everyone by making the match of the season,” He explained as he continued to tow you along with him. You turned your head to gaze up at him again, he was shocking in so many ways. Not only did he follow no real social protocols, but he spoke his mind and was too handsome to be _reasonable._ You wished you did not think it true, but as you looked at him you couldn’t help but notice again every pleasant thing about his face. Full lips, dark eyes with their fire-gaze, straight nose, and skin that was kissed with beauty spots in all sorts of delicate places. You blinked a few times, trying to beat back all the feelings that rose with appreciating his beauty,

“You read Lady Whistledown?” You asked, hating how stupid you sounded.

“Doesn’t everyone?” he asked. Your brow knit, you didn’t like being reminded of that fact. It must have shown on your face because he raised an eyebrow and his lip twitched towards a sardonic smirk, “I thought you would appreciate most of the things she wrote of you, Miss Huntington.” He observed. The idea that you would appreciate the things she wrote of you, of your family irritated you more than anything else he could have said. You let out a long, slow breath, trying to not let the anger towards Lady Whistledown effect the way you spoke to him. You were about to answer when he continued, cutting you off yet again, “You should appreciate that she’s willing to speak of you at all,” The frank way he put that boiled your blood and again you found yourself wanting to rip from his arm and march off but your body betrayed you once again and you remained stuck next to him.

“She…I can’t believe- that woman…she compared me to a HORSE!” You exclaimed, your voice dripping with contempt as you tried to not speak too loudly. Kylo frowned in thought a moment,

“I had not recalled that.” He said easily ignoring your fuming. “So, did you have callers this morning?” he asked again. You felt deflated, you had been so angry only seconds before and it was like it had been a soap bubble that he had burst. You swallowed and forced your eyes down, away from him. You felt your cheeks burn and you hoped your embarrassment didn’t show too much,

“No.” You said in the most dignified voice you could manage, lifting your chin. You weren’t sure why you were telling him the truth, but lying about it made it seem more shameful.

“No?” He confirmed, sounding surprised.

“No.” You said again, “No callers, no flowers, nothing.” He had walked you down the Serpentine to the next footbridge and now you were beginning to cross it. As you reached the middle of the bridge he stopped and looked down towards the water, you paused and stood on your tiptoes to look over the railing on the bridge as well, there was nothing but shallow dirty water below. Nothing of interest, but it was a good way to avoid his gaze.

“That surprises me. You danced with others at the Danbury ball I presume?” He asked.

“Yes,” You finally did look back towards him and again were struck by his handsome face. Your heart started to thrum faster in your chest. “I did think that perhaps you would call,” You admitted in a rush. The silence that fell seemed like the longest silence in your life. You wished you had not said anything. The words hung in the air and you wished they were physical so you could grab them and press them back inside of you, into your chest where he could no longer know them.

“Why would I call on _you?”_ It was the emphasis on ‘you’ that hurt more than the sentiment itself. You let out the breath you had been holding and tried to replace the hurt with the frustration you had felt towards him earlier.

“I was the only young lady you danced with at the Ball,” You said, “And now you’re standing here, walking with me and asking if I had any callers. Forgive me, for thinking that might mean some form of _interest,_ Your Grace.” You said.

“I am not interested, Miss Huntington.” He said so easily that you felt that same hurt as before. Why was he here then? Why was he walking with you now when you could have been walking with someone who _was_ truly interested. Perhaps it was rude but at the moment you didn’t care,

“Why are you here then?” You demanded, you were finally able to pull your arm away from him now. “If you want so little to do with me, why walk with me?” You placed both hands on the railing of the bridge and turned fully towards the water once again. You tried to even your breathing, it was unbecoming to be gasping for breath even if it did feel like you had been kicked in the stomach.

“To irritate my mother,” He answered. Now it was easy to replace the hurt with anger, he was using you for his familial issues and it was at the expense of the rest of your life. How were you to have any suitors if he took up all your time with stupid walks that were only to his benefit.

You turned slowly towards him, feeling like anger was swelling up inside of you like the soap bubble from before, only you doubted it would be as easy to burst this time.

“To irritate your mother?” You asked, your voice dangerous and quiet. He was unapologetic. “How dare you? You think just because you’re some…some Prince that you can use me however you would like for your petty problems with your mother?” You gasped out, you _were_ shaking now. Your whole body was responding to the indignity of what he was doing to you. His face darkened slightly and he stepped towards you, towering above you. Anyone watching might have mistaken this for something romantic if it hadn’t been for the loathing that was apparent on your face.

“You speak to a Prince like this?” he growled.

“When this Prince has acted anything but gentlemanly and has insulted me repeatedly-“

“Even when what I’m doing will help you in the long run as well?” He asked, his voice lowering even more.

“-by blatantly disrespecting me and my—what?” You pulled up short when he asked you that. “How on _earth_ could this help me?” You paused, and then added with as much sarcasm as you could muster, “Your Grace.”

“Have you not noticed how many men have been watching you since I took your arm for this walk?” He hissed, leaning down closer to you. You could smell him now, and his scent with the overwhelming power of that dark gaze was enough to make you lose your breath for a moment.

“I-What?” You asked again, hurriedly looking around towards the other groups of people in the park.

“Don’t look now, stupid girl.” He growled. “Yes, my interest in you has piqued the interest of quite a few other men. You need suitors. I need my mother to stop pushing for me to marry…and I also need some peace from the idiotic Mama’s who push their daughters on me at every event I attend.” He said.

“I…I don’t understand.” You said softly, but you were beginning to, you remembered the way you had felt eyes on you when he had first come over to you. It hadn’t just been the eyes of gossiping old ladies, no, it had been the watchful daresay jealous eyes of men. He was proposing something to you, not something you would have thought of…but something _almost_ as helpful.

“If you and I are seen together…seen as an item. Seen as if we were courting, you would become the most appealing girl in the ton. You would also become a challenge and men love nothing more than a challenge.” He said.

“And you…”

“Well, I would get exactly what I want as well-“ His eyes flicked to the other side of the river and down back where they had come where his mother was still walking with her Lady’s maid. You felt as though your heart would beat out of your chest, if he was right, if this worked it could very well get you a match by the end of the season.

“Do you think it would work?” You asked.

“If Lady Whistledown believes it. The whole ton will follow.” He said. “You just need to stop making scene of us in public.” He said. “Now take my arm again,” He instructed. “And walk back with me.”

You did as he said, hoping against hope he was right. He had to be right, your future was relying on it. You had to maintain that you were courting, you had to maintain it realistically and you had to do it while not thinking too much about his hand grazing your skin or the way his fire-gaze scorched your insides, burning excitement into your veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY OKAY! I know Bridgerton fans know that I essentially took the idea of the agreement from Daphne and the Duke's storyline but I'm going to do it different, I swear. And also...I mean who doesn't love fake dating?  
> Hope you liked it! Catch me on tumblr: cummingforkylo.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> !!!! I hope you enjoyed it! More to come soon!!!  
> If you would like you can follow me on tumblr: cummingforkylo.tumblr.com


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